They were riding slowly through the woods in silence, father and son. It was not an uncomfortable silence; in fact, Stannis seemed almost ... joyful. Or perhaps joyful was not the right word, Steffon thought, as he glanced at his younger son. Contented. For the first time in a long while, Stannis actually looked contented and at ease.

And yet, Steffon knew he was failing in his duty. He would have to break the silence soon.

"Talk to him," Cassana had said. "Ask him why." She paused. "And tell him to stop it. It's absurd, treating his own brother that way."

Steffon fidgeted and looked away. "He has always been more comfortable telling you things. Have you spoken to him?"

Cassana sighed. "He wouldn't tell me anything. Not this time. You know how stubborn he can be."

The silent treatment. That was what Stannis had done. He had not spoken to Robert for almost a week now. Not a single word or even a solitary reply to a question. Robert pretended not to care, pretended that the whole thing was deeply amusing and entertaining, but Steffon knew it was bothering him. He had seen Robert glancing furtively at his brother from time to time, with a puzzled and uncomprehending look on his face.

"Were you teasing him and went too far, perhaps?" Cassana had asked Robert.

"No!" Robert had protested.

The boys were so dissimilar, and they were not as close as Steffon would have liked them to be. Steffon had been an only child; the complexity of sibling relationship was a mystery to him. Cassana was the one who had grown up with brothers and sisters.

"A certain amount of ribbing and quarreling is normal, but it's a lot more than that with Stannis and Robert," she had said.

Steffon glanced at Stannis again. He was reluctant to ruin their pleasant ride together.

"Why have you decided not to speak to Robert? Did Robert say anything to make you angry?" Steffon finally asked the question.

As Steffon had feared, the look of ease and contentment disappeared immediately from Stannis' face. He stiffened and stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his father's eyes.

"Stannis?"

Still no reply. Now it was Steffon getting the silent treatment from Stannis.

"I asked you a question, Stannis."

"Are you and mother having another child?" Stannis asked abruptly. The question so startled Steffon, he almost lost the rein of his horse.

They have been trying for another child, Steffon and Cassana. Perhaps a girl this time, they had hoped, but the gods had not seen fit to bless them with another child. Yet. Steffon had not given up hope.

"Robert said he wished you and mother would, so he will finally have a brother he can love," Stannis said, still not looking at his father.

It was all starting to make sense to Steffon.

"Is that why you won't speak to him?" Steffon asked.

Stannis said nothing. He and his horse galloped away faster, leaving Steffon behind.

"He doesn't mean it. He's only saying that to annoy you." All the things he should have said were running through Steffon's head. His sons were very hard on each other. Steffon recalled the time Stannis told Robert that if he didn't start paying more attention to Maester Cressen's lessons, he would grow up too dumb to be the lord of Storm's End.

"You're not that clever to begin with. If you don't start learning, people will cheat and take advantage of you," Stannis had told Robert. Robert had thrown Conquest of Westeros at Stannis, the heavy book missing Stannis' head by less than a finger length.

Steffon had chastised them both severely, Robert for throwing the book and almost injuring his brother, Stannis for what he had said to Robert.

"That is a very unkind and hurtful thing to say to your brother. You should not have said that!"

"But it is true!" Stannis said, staring at his father with a baffled expression on his face. "I didn't say it to be hurtful or unkind, I said it because it's the truth. Robert never pays attention during our lessons, he's too busy looking outside and daydreaming, or interrupting Maester Cressen with silly and unrelated questions. He's not learning anything. He doesn't even know the history of House Baratheon very well, and can't even remember the names of the lords and knights who have sworn fealty to our House. How can he be a good lord like you are, Father?"

Steffon sighed.

"And you're the one who taught us to always tell the truth, Father," Stannis continued.

"Yes, but there are ways of stating the truth, such that it will not offend people, or hurt their feelings. Because if they are offended, they're less likely to take your advice, even if it is a very sound advice. Do you understand that, Stannis?"

Stannis was silent for a long while. "I think so," he finally replied, but he didn't sound convinced.

The fact that they each minded so very much, when the other said something hurtful was a good sign, Steffon tried to reassure himself. It meant that Stannis and Robert still cared about one another, that the other's opinion carried weight and was important to each of them.

Stannis halted suddenly, his horse braying loudly from the forced immobility. Steffon pushed his horse faster to reach Stannis' side. "What is it? Why did you stop so suddenly?"

Stannis got down from his horse, stooped, and picked up something from the ground. A bird, flapping its wings in panic, but calming down when Stannis ran his fingers slowly and gently over its head. The almost tender way Stannis was looking at the bird and touching it brought a smile to Steffon's face. The smile faded as another thought crossed his mind.

Why can't you be this gentle and considerate with your brother?

Why can't Robert? Both of them needed to make an effort, Steffon thought.

"He's injured," Stannis said, holding out the bird to his father. "I think one of the wings is broken." Stannis stared into the bird's eyes with intense concentration. "And he's in great pain," he continued.

"Maester Cressen will have a medicine for that," Steffon replied. To ease the pain, and perhaps to put the bird to sleep forever.

"Can I keep him?" Stannis asked, looking up at his father anxiously.

Steffon examined the bird carefully. "I think it's a she, actually," he said, smiling. He had determined that the injury was not so dire; the bird would live after all. "What will you name her?"

"Windproud," Stannis replied. "Like your ship, Father. She'll fly faster than the wind."

"Maybe not, her wing has been injured. Even if it is healed, she might not fly at all," Steffon said gently. "Do you still want to keep her?"

Stannis nodded without hesitation. "Proudwing," Stannis whispered to the bird, his fingers grazing the uninjured wing. "That's your name."